The Real Ending
by HappyDaysHateKitsunes
Summary: For those of us who dislike how the series ended. Here, King Arthur finds out about Merlin's biggest secret. For Merlin, the worst part is seeing Arthur's face as he passes judgement. But an unhindered Merlin can use magic freely now, and this terrible servant still has a king and country to save. Minor violence and british swear words. I'm not British, so rated T just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**The Real Ending **

**For those of us who dislike how the series ended—spoiler—with barely a show of Merlin's true power. Here, King Arthur finds out about Merlin's biggest secret. For Merlin, the worst part is seeing Arthur's face as he passes judgement. But an unhindered Merlin can use magic freely now, and this terrible servant still has a king and country to save. **

**Ch. 1 The break up**

They appeared out of the mist like ghosts—except they were fully-fleshed humans.

Probably.

"Arthur!" Merlin whisper-shouted, backing away.

It was beyond early in the morning. Merlin, a kingly prat and his gaggle of trusty, round-table friends were camped out in the woods like always.

Merlin nearly tripped over himself as he whisper-shouted again. "Arthur!"

Arthur, Gwaine, Elliot, Leon and Percival were strewn around the dead campfire, knapsacks pulled up to their chins. Merlin may have whispered Arthurs' name, but it was actually only Elliot, Leon and Percival whose heads raised almost in unison.

Those same three heads bobbed like chickens, looking around. They seemed to realize what was going on at the same time and kicked Arthur and Gwaine to do the same. Camelot's finest, indeed.

The trusty round table friends were surrounded.

Mist shrouded more than a dozen figures on horseback, bows and arrows knocked and ready and pointed at all of their pretty little heads.

The knights looked up at the horsemen. The horsemen stared down at the knights. One used his bow and arrow to make a "get up already" gesture.

Sheaths hissed and blades glinted as the knights shook off their bedrolls, rising to their feet.

Their dumbstruck, sleepy expressions were finally replaced by game faces. After so many years, this was the first time the uncomfortable habit of sleeping in chainmail was put to good use. It was almost worth it.

Oh, and they had enemies to fight. It was game-on over that, too.

Gwaine took a good look around at the shrouded figures circling them. "Didn't want breakfast first?" He asked with a roguish grin.

"You were supposed to be on watch, _Mer_-lin," a prat said.

The servant had been standing near a tree when the horsemen appeared, but now he had made his way over to his friends. "I am watching, want me to describe it to you?"

"Quiet!" One of the figures said. A woman. A Lady.

Morgana.

The knights advanced slightly towards the archers, shifting their feet and glancing at Arthur like dogs waiting for the command to sic 'em.

Merlin backed even closer to Arthur.

"What do you want?" Arthur said softly, sword raised.

"What's rightfully mine," the woman said, pulling back her hood to reveal long, black, uncombed hair. "And I will have it—brother."

The scent of earth was thick in their nostrils, rising with the mist to curl like souls and taste like decayed rain. It was barely dawn, lending ghostly light to the already eerie fog in the forest.

"I've poisoned these arrows," Morgana said. "One scratch will kill you and steal your soul for a millennia."

As if on cue, all the horsemen shifted their aim to point solely at Arthur.

Laugher was the king's answer.

"You're bluffing," Arthur said, even as a worry line crept between his eyebrows and his grin was more like the face people make when they're using a chamber pot.

"Try me," Morgana's signature grin rose slowly. "At least one arrow will find its mark, so there's only one thing that can save you. One person."

Her gaze slithered to meet each knight's before it came to rest on Merlin. She lightly bit her lip, still flashing pearly whites.

Merlin shook his head, eyes wide and hands up in a placating gesture. With a husky voice, he said, "Wait, Morgana, please…"

"You're always so indecisive—until it's too late!" She cackled, wheeling her horse about.

"Wait!" Merlin reached out, one arm towards her and the other following his eyes to the archers.

Arrows loosed. Arthur was shoved to the center of their circle, the knights ready to give their—

BOOM!

Arrows splintered and shards flung to the ground while enemies and horses were thrown with the force of a tidal wave.

Most of the men lay on the forest floor or up in tree limbs like discarded, bleeding rag dolls. Horses shook free of the ground and their riders, some able to bolt away.

It was the most powerful display of magic the knights, who lived where magic was outlawed, had ever seen so openly on display. OK, most powerful from an ally.

"Morgana!" Merlin shouted with golden eyes. A bolt of lightning chased after her as she turned and kicked her horse down the trail away from where she'd paused to watch.

Another bolt blasted a tree as she continued her zig-zag dash away, disappearing quickly in the unnatural mist.

Merlin blinked hard, lowering his arm and finding it difficult to turn and face Arthur and the others. If he had, he would have seen them frozen, still in that tight group around their king.

And all staring at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch. 2 The traitor**

Shoulders heaving and brow scrunched, Merlin pivoted to face them. Already his face was turning blotchy and his eyes were blinking rapidly.

Arthur pushed his knights aside and stalked towards him. Leon and Gwaine flanked their king with grim faces and swords still drawn.

Arthur stopped feet away and huffed. The tip of his sword pointed at Merlin's throat like a shaking finger, dipped and pointed again as he huff-sighed through his nose. The sword swung to rest on his shoulder as he stepped away, moving several feet more before turning back.

He took a few paces one way and a few more the other.

"Not you too," he finally said.

Merlin was still blinking irregularly, head slightly bowed. "Arthur. Aa-Arthur…"

"Shut up."

The flapping of birds settling back to their perches filled the silence.

"You're a sorcerer, Merlin?" Gwaine asked not unkindly but with intensity.

"I have magic. But I use it for you Arthur, only for you."

Arthur seemed to scowl more.

He spun around, walking to where their horses had been tied. Arthur took his time tightening the girth of Merlin's horse, slipping the bridle on. Checking the girth again—then, finally, walking it to the young sorcerer, who would normally have teased his king a bit about his astonishing ability to perform a normal, everyday task Merlin had never seen him do before.

But it wasn't time for Merlin to be focused on that.

"We're done." Arthur slapped the reins into Merlin's hand. "Sod off."

"…What?"

"I don't care where you go. But so help me if I ever see you again, you'll regret it."

"No, Arthur, you don't understand. It's…you see…I'm not like that. Her."

He didn't get the usual "you never do as you're told" speech delivered with a hidden grin. Merlin just got Leon's sword pointed at his chest as his king turned away.

"Don't step another foot in Camelot as long as you live." The Pendragon said, glaring down the trees to their left like they offended him to his core.

They were innocent bystanders, the trees. Yet they had Arthur's full attention as he sacked the servant that had been with him through thick and thin all these years.

"Get on." Leon said with a flick of his sword. His face was a mask of duty and honor.

Merlin obeyed, swinging up and backing the horse away. The three other knights watched with mixed reactions.

"Wait a minute, Sire," Elyan said, "You can't just let him leave."

"Let him speak!" Gwaine thundered.

Percival's weighty silence, a true testament to his character, said he was pending judgement for now.

Merlin's face was a mess of silent tears. He couldn't eek out a comprehensible sentence to reason with the seething Pendragon.

"You don't understand," he could only say. "I was born with it, but I've only used it for you…I'm not her, it's not how you think. Magic isn't like that. I'm not like that."

Arthur remained stiff and stony. The trees still had his full attention.

Leon snaked his sword toward the horse and rider. "Go!"

"I won't hurt you, I won't hurt you," Merlin said, backing his horse up more. He never tore his eyes from Arthur.

Arthur finally looked full at Merlin, expression returning. Enraging. He bent to pick something up and threw it. But instead of a cup, plate, or bucket like he had thrown at the servant countless times before, the king threw the nearest thing he could find—a fistful of whatever was on the forest floor.

"Liar!" He shouted.

The handful of dirt, leaves, and tiny sticks hit Merlin's horse in the face and stung the servant's arm and heart. His horse squealed and shied away from the armor-clad king, half rearing.

A bigger stick to her rump sent the mare buck-bolting with Merlin into the brush, zig-zagging as fast as she could around the trees while her rider clung for dear life. A dangerous ride in this forest.

It took longer for him and the horse to get out of sight than it did for Morgana and her smoky fog.

Speaking of the wool-haired lady, her horse was slowly picking its way through the brush as she guided it to meet the others for the next phase in her plan. Did she seemed concerned about her former companions being blasted away by a scrawny, lightning-spouting sorcerer?

You already know the answer.

Merlin got his horse to slow fairly quickly. He unknotted his hands from her mane, which left twisted designs of red and purple where the thick strands of hair had cut into him.

He wished the hair had been cutting into Morgana's neck instead.

He got off and turned her to walk back the way they came, rubbing purple fingers back to flesh-colored and using the shoulder of his tunic to wipe the tears off his face at the same time.

The mare's heaving sides meant she'd be walking for a while. And when she cooled off, he'd have to double-check her feet to make sure she didn't get injured cantering in this particular forest. The floor was littered with a bed of leaves that was thicker than most. Each step had been a gamble. Roots, branches and rocks buried beneath the leaves could all have been her downfall. Literally.

Only a rider that was beyond stupid would do anything but walk a horse through it.

His eyes flashed gold as he reached out with his magic any way he could think of. Merlin's face should have held the expression of a kicked puppy.

Instead, he glowered like a dragon out for blood.

"Sire, shall we hunt down the witch?" Leon asked, sheathing his sword.

"And meet on her terms, are you mad?" Elyan said. "That was an ambush, she knew we'd be here."

Arthur planted his feet and squared his shoulders. "I told only a select few where we were going. More proof of a traitor within my circle." He ran a hand through his hair.

The silence tasted bitter as the king continued. "We'll solve that later. She ran off southeast, so we continue northwest at double-time. Leon, ready my horse."

"Arthur," Gwaine spat, titles and smiles aside. "How could you do that? He saved our lives!"

Elyan put a hand in front of Gwaine. "Sire, he could be dangerous. We should have kept him, even as a prisoner."

"You pillock, you think he's a traitor!" Gwaine shouted.

"Could be!"

"Shut up!" Arthur said cuttingly, shoving at both of them. "He lied. He_ is_ a traitor, and if you think I want to be near him one second more—you're dead wrong!"

"Yeah, he's a blinking git for hiding it, but why wouldn't he, your _highness_?" Gawain rebounded. "So you wouldn't have to decide between him and Uther's pyres!"

Arthur grabbed at the front of Gwaine's chainmail while the knight grappled at his king's wrists, a brawler's anger contorting his face.

Elyan and Percival were pulling at the two of them, trying to break it up.

"I just did make that choice," the Pendragon said. "I know I'll regret it, but I don't know how yet. Maybe it's because I should forgive him. Or maybe he should burn!"

"You don't mean it," Gwaine said less forcefully, still gripping his king. "Even Morgana…"

Arthur shoved, half tossing the knight into Percival. "Let's get moving."

Gwaine straightened stiffly, watching Arthur swing up onto the horse Leon had ready for him as Percival patted Gwaine's shoulder and walked off to tack up his own mount.

Gwaine seethed, looking out at the general direction Merlin's horse had bolted. He seemed to teeter on something in his mind, then went to join Percival. He was the last to swing up onto his mount, taking the rear position as the group rode on.

It wasn't long before their forced silence was broken by Gwaine shouting "Ambush" at the sight of fog to their rear.

They kicked and hissed for their horses to go faster down the trail as arrows thunked into trees and branches behind them. Forests had always been the enemy of long-range projectiles, but Morgana's minions only had to get closer to fix that.

Knights and bandits all raced down the well-traveled road, choosing its safe, sure footing over the slow, treacherous forest.

Camelot's finest didn't know it yet, but the wool-haired lady's plan was unfolding to perfection.

Merlin was walking his horse in the general direction the knights were headed, using magic to discern where to intercept.

He hated having to walk, shoving down his desperate desire to foil whatever Morgana's scheme was immediately.

A primal roar shook his attention back to his own situation.

Merlin began to understand as he watched a white, roaring beast charge towards him as fast as its body could wind around the trees.

Morgana hadn't been out to kill Arthur. She wanted to separate the master and servant, whose magical ability she'd probably recently learned had foiled most all of her plots. (How she learned it was anyone's guess. But he'd be sure to wring the answer out of her when he got the chance). Aithusa's job was to either slow him down, or finish him off while Morgana took Arthur's head and crown.

Flying was a no-go for the young, wyvern-sized dragon in this forest. But the maw, talons, and tail were still lethal to a shieldless servant. And just like Kilgharrah, magic and swords would be virtually useless against its hide.

Morgana was probably convinced he would be utterly at the mercy of her "light of the sun."

The last dragon lord smiled. Cute.

Human battle cries rose up from the huge mounds on either sides of the trail. The knights had been herded into a trap and it was about to snap shut. Bows began to pull back. It was seconds before the men and women standing on the high ground around the trail performed their deadly strike.

The knights' formation had Arthur in the middle of their pack, but "had" was the key word. He kicked his horse past Percival and Leon moments before and was now leading their crew's mad dash from the archers behind them and into the archers that had seconds ago risen to shake off leaves and stand before them.

"To me!" He shouted.

At his direction, the knights did the unthinkable. They turned left, breaking from the trail just before the mounds on either side rose too high and would prevent their escape.

But charging uphill slowed their horses, putting them broadside the archers who now had their bow strings pulled taught. They let fly and the knights of Camelot prayed their aim wasn't true.

For the second time that day a boom sounded as a rail-thin young man and horse cantered towards them.

The 30 or so archers on the mounds around the trail all went flying.

Arthur and the knights were almost upon Merlin, who had slowed his mare to a walk. And Morgana was also on the move, bearing down with her force of 50 or more from the rear.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold as he whispered words of power. A dust devil of fierce wind, leaves and other debris grew into an immeasurable size. Another of his tried and true battle spells, but larger than he had ever made before. It set upon the enemies and was so vast it blocked many of them from view and broke trees in its wake.

Screams echoed, but Morgana managed to burst past with her horse, dodging falling timber. With sword raised and wind whipping her hair, she charged at Merlin and used his favorite spell against him, making it the third time someone was sent flying by it that day.

Merlin didn't appreciate the irony as he hit the ground hard, sticks and rocks poking into his back. The dust devil spell dissolved. Dazed, Merlin was thankful he hadn't hit the raised tree root inches from his head.

His looked over to see his mare had not been so lucky. Her body had met the tree.

Morgan charged at him with her mount. "How!" She cried. "How are you this powerful!"

Clearly the sorceress learned his secret, but underestimated his abilities.

Her horse kept coming. Why ask when she won't pause for an answer?

He vaguely heard Arthur shout "For the love of Camelot" as the knights charged the remaining assailants, seemingly oblivious of the danger his former servant was in. Gee, thanks. Death needs a hairbrush and is meters away on a black horse.

In his last genuine "throwdown" with the lady and her matted hair, she nearly got the better of him in a similar fashion. She'd also thrown him down then but he had been Dragoon the Great, a centenarian without the quick bounce-back of a youth's mind and body.

This time…his eyes quickly flashed gold and she was also thrown from her horse. Because a battle between magically gifted individuals doesn't have to be creative, apparently. A shoving match works just fine.

Her foot caught in the stirrup as she fell and she screamed with genuine fear and pain as the horse dragged her by the ankle.

An unexpected bonus.

They rode right past the prone Merlin, hooves narrowly missing him.

He shouted more words of power and a burst of wind corralled the rogue horse. It slowed and was forced to circle back to him. The young sorcerer rose painfully to his feet.

The horse was walking now. With a kick and yelp, Morgana freed her foot and slid to a stop on the leaf-ridden ground. Even after all that, she still had a grip on her sword.

But he had a tree branch and a mountain of fury. Merlin smashed down on her pitiful upward jab, striking her hand and knocking the weapon from her grasp.

Swinging again for her face, she cried out as it hit her shielding hand and glanced her temple. Merlin mercilessly stepped on her good hand, the other lying strangely over her chest. Possibly broken.

"I blame myself for what you have become," he said. With a flare of power, Merlin had Morgana's sword poised magically above her head. "But this has to end. By sword or magic, I will see that you and your anger are laid to rest."

"Merlin!" A prat shouted.

The golden-eyed sorcerer paused to peer over his shoulder at the king of Camelot. The sorcerer seemed to sag the longer he met his monarch's cold, blue gaze. As though he just realized this was Arthur's first time. Likely a chilling thing for the king to see—golden, glowing eyes on him of all people.

Morgana seized his moment of inattention. Unfamiliar, hurried words of power tumbled from her lips as magic lifted her a few inches off the ground and shot her away from the battlefield, tripping the sorcerer stepping on her as she went.

With a whump Merlin was once again laying on the forest floor. But he barely cared that his mortal enemy was escaping (looking vaguely like a floating corpse), because his king was stepping into view. And from this angle, lying on the forest floor, even the trees seemed to point to him like the magnetized arrows of a dozen compasses.

"You lied to me," Arthur said softly. "After everything we've been through together, you've been lying this whole time."

"I've wanted to tell you so many times, Arthur," Merlin said with a husky rasp. He rolled over and wearily stood upright. Leaves clung to his back and hair. "If I told you what I was—you or your father would have sacked or killed me."

"You think I care?" Arthur said, eyebrows scrunching together. His voice started to catch. "You lied to me for years." Each word began to gain more heat. "You pretended to be a weak, useless dolt. Skulked about doing God knows what, and probably laughed at me the whole time!"

"Are you kidding?" Merlin stepped forward and pointed a finger inches away from his king's chainmail.

Finally he found his words.

"I saved your sorry arse more times than I can count, and you never knew it." Merlin dropped the hand but held the Pendragon's gaze. "It wasn't luck you survived to become the greatest king Camelot has ever seen, it was me. My magic."

Arthur's face twisted into an ugly expression, glaring at the servant. Former servant.

"Magic killed my father. My mother. It stole Morgana, and now…You said yourself that it was evil. YOU SAID A LOT OF THINGS YOU DIDN'T MEAN. YOU. YOU…TRAITOR!"

Merlin shook his head, but could say nothing else through the emotion swelling his throat. He felt like he was trying to swallow a sock. Merlin hobbled over to Morgana's own black gelding. He patted its shoulder as he gazed morosely at his horse, his favorite mount, injured by the tree Morgana had slammed her into.

Arthur walked a few paces closer to Merlin, who swung up on the black horse.

"I thought you were the bravest man I'd ever known, following me into every battle even though you were useless beyond belief," Arthur said with a calmer voice. "That was a lie, too."

The blond king's anger seemed deflated. His face simply matter-of-fact.

Merlin swallowed the sock whole.

If he hadn't already been sitting on a horse, those words would have knocked him off his feet. Trembling, used Morgana's sword to point in the direction the Pendragon's half-sister had vanished.

"Her plan backfired," was all he could think to say.

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"She did this to drive a rift between us," Merlin said. "But she couldn't kill me. Or you. And now I don't have to hide, I can use magic and go all out. I don't have to hold back."

"Is that a threat? You can use your newfound freedom to burn us all to hell?"

Merlin gave no answer, but his face conveyed what he thought of that comment. Clot pole.

After a moment, Merlin tried for a smile like he usually did when he and Arthur verbally sparred and razzed each other.

"Good luck finding a new servant. You wouldn't last a day without me, even if you find the perfect fool who can stomach being your nursemaid and bow and scrape to a dollop head like you."

"That's where you're wrong," Arthur said. "Even a palace cat would be a better servant than you."

Merlin laughed. It was strangled, but like daybreak for a grieving soul.

Arthur looked surprised, like he hadn't meant to take Merlin's bait. They were almost acting…normal.

"Arthur, can you…can you do one thing?" Merlin said. "Just don't blame Gaius. Don't kick him out. Take care of him for me and tell him not to worry."

"I'll think about it. But if I ever see you in Camelot again, you won't get off easy!"

Merlin smiled genuinely for the first time that morning. "If you don't see me again, you'll be the one who's sorry."

The young sorcerer kicked his heels and Morgana's black horse started walking. Merlin grabbed the reigns for his own favorite, limping chestnut mare and set off in the direction his nemesis had vanished.

But after a few meters Merlin pulled up short, twisted in the saddle, and said the damning words.

Words Arthur needed to hear but desperately didn't want to. Especially after losing his mother. Morgana. His father. And now _Mer_-lin. Yet the useless, good-for-nothing _former _servant had the audacity to steal his peace of mind about one other important person.

The true traitor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch. 3 Kitty-cat servant**

It had been weeks since that heart-wrenching day in the forest that ended Merlin and Arthur's relationship as master and servant.

He almost wished Merlin saw it that way.

The thin, sharp cheekboned man had not been lying when he said he had foiled plots against Arthur and Camelot more times than he could count. Arthur sat at the desk in his chambers and did a mental tally.

So far the servant—no, sorcerer, had burst in to make a grand declaration, sometimes an outrageous display of magic, four times in the last three weeks.

The first time had been the most ridiculous. It involved cross-dressing, a kiss for Gaius, and a fluffy black kitten.

**Hey guys, I've been working on this off and on for years and finally decided to publish. This is a new account for me and I haven't published fanfiction since early high school (we're talking like 6, 8 years ago)—so I don't have a set publish schedule like the pros. **

**This chapter feels incomplete bc I was trying too hard to be funny with the scenario above and I just can't seem to get it right. **

**You know how Arthur said a cat would make a better servant than Merlin? **

**Well, I wanted to do something with that but I'm stumped. I'm sorry, but don't consider this a teaser chapter. It's more if an epilogue. **

**Heck, if you want to write that chapter for me, go ahead and post it. Just PM me so I can read it. **

**I might pick back up and try writing out that scenario, but for now I will leave it to you guys. **

**That said, this is exactly the situation I wanted the show to get to. Arthur and the knights know…and he and Merlin may no longer be master and servant, but they are still friends. I really wanted the show to play with that new tension for episode after episode and shenanigan after shenanigan. The series felt like that's what it was building towards…and then it really didn't.**

**That said, thanks for getting this far! Happy fanfiction hunting and jumping!**


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